


can't stop staring (at your ocean eyes)

by thirteenohtwo



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Beaujester Week, F/F, ah well, hopefully more to come, i don't know how this got so long, it was supposed to be 5k at most
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 01:16:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19983646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirteenohtwo/pseuds/thirteenohtwo
Summary: Jester notices how blue Beau's eyes are.Orthe only oneshot slowburn I've ever written?? can you even slowburn in a oneshot?!





	can't stop staring (at your ocean eyes)

When they meet for the first time, Jester is taken aback. Jester has experience with people - watching them, that is, and maybe  _ technically  _ that isn't the same as interacting with them but there's some measure of honesty in it. If they don't know someone is looking, they don't know to filter themselves from those prying eyes. 

Jester has watched a lot of people, she  _ knows _ them, even if she doesn't  _ know _ them. 

She knew Fjord even before she introduced herself; she watched from across the open market as he shuffled his way through the crowd. Awkward edges nobody could see past his charming smile, a kindness deep inside as he offered coppers to the kids brave enough to run up and ask him. Maybe not the  _ good guy _ but definitely a guy  _ trying to be good _ and that was somehow better. Effortless goodness is brittle and fragile, so easily corrupted, so easily lost. Someone who works at being good, someone like Fjord, they desperately hold onto it like a lifeline. 

All of this might not be  _ easy _ to see but Jester sees it  _ easily,  _ she picks up on it immediately, and Mama always said she had a knack for people.

So when she meets Beau, brash and loud and angry, when this  _ bad _ person, when this  _ asshole _ looks at her with the brightest, most gentle eyes she's ever seen… Jester isn't sure what to do.

"I say we ditch her back in the city," Fjord murmurs as the two walk ahead of their newfound Monk. "She doesn't really even wanna be here, I don't think she'll look for us."

Jester doesn't mention how her chest constricts painfully, doesn't tell her new friend that she's already attached. That she already loves them both because they're the  _ first _ two people who have shown her any kindness that didn't  _ have to _ .  _ "Feeyord, _ we can't do that! It would be totally super mean!"

"It's Fjord," he grumbles with a light frown even if there's amusement and mild disbelief in there.

Behind them, Beau scoffs. "You know, I can hear you."

Fjord perks up and looks over his shoulder, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "She's bluffing."

"Not bluffing."

"How the  _ hell _ can you hear that?? We're way up here!"

Brown shoulders raise and fall lazily, a bo balanced along them so Beau can hook her arms on it. "I'm a Monk of the Cobalt Soul, I've been trained to pick out any little disturbance in my environment… and you are  _ very _ disturbing." 

The wink and accompanying grin is flashed at Jester so quickly that the tiefling isn't convinced she didn't imagine it. Her head tilts and she finds the corner of her lips twitching up into a smile. "I've heard about those monks. They're, like, the Top Official Monks of the Empire, right?"

"More like a bunch'a stuffed shirts but yeah, I guess so."

"Are you on a monk mission?"

"I am."

She gasps and jumps in place, slowing down for Beau to catch up. "Is it super secret? Can I know? Can I help??"

"Already are, Jester," Beau tells her casually. "On a mission to meet as many pretty girls out there as I can. One down."

The tired groan that falls from Fjord's lips can't even dampen the butterflies in Jester's chest, nor does it help stifle her nervous giggle. "Oh Beau, I bet you say that to all your newly made travelling companions!" Jester chirps instead and spins until her dress flares out. The heat in her cheeks is new still - she's not used to blushing, not even from her books or the stories she heard around the Chateau. But between the very pretty half orc and the very pretty monk, she feels like her face is aflame.

Beside her, Beau smacks Fjord's shoulder and Jester watches his eye twitch. He makes no move to rub his shoulder though, and she's impressed. "Listen," Beau drawls. "I get you're cagey and all, people suck ass and can't be trusted. That's my general rule. So you don't gotta trust me, I ain't gonna trust you, but I got your back. Deal?"

"Sure, what the hell." It's not enthusiastic by a long shot but it's something and the hope in Jester's chest grows.

She's not alone.

**.**

**.**

**.**

By the time they drag their sore and soaked bodies through the door of the inn, the moon is high in the sky. Dealing with the snake had been more involved than Jester was expecting - she's never had to use her magic in such a way before, but there's no denying the afterhum. The thrill that still dances through her system, the smile that makes her cheeks ache. 

She's still buzzing with so much energy that she doesn't notice the very colourful tiefling taking money and tossing cards across the room, nor does she notice the mismatched eyes of a fallen angel track her bouncing fondly. She barely manages not to step on the orange cat that slithers by, a scruffy man shouldering around her with his small child. 

"That was so cool though! Fjord, you were so handsome when you sliced through its belly! And Beau!" she gasps dramatically, swinging from Fjord's arm as he struggles to pay for their rooms. "The way you flipped over it when it was striking! Did you see me? I was like  **_boom!_ ** " 

The server behind the counter gasps when Jester's fingers start to sparkle, when magic pools in her palm, and she swings it around wildly. Beau lurches forward to grab her arm, lacing their fingers together and smothering out the magic. "Cut that shit out, they're not gonna rent us a room!" she tries to reprimand but her smile also hasn't faded, her gaze travels across the room to land on each window before meeting Jester's. "That was pretty wicked," she agrees. 

"Bed. Now. Please." The words are punctuated with a shove towards the stairs as Fjord drags his travelling pack behind him, still bloody from the fight. "I need'a sleep ten hours and eat for two after that, at least. My dogs are barkin'." 

The three of them trudge up the stairs, more or less all leaning on each other and the wall as their muscles tremble and threaten to give way. "What does that even mean?" Jester wonders aloud and follows the orc to one of the doors. "Which room is mine? Is it nice?"

"Super nice and super not this one," Fjord tells her with a grin and a chin jerk down the hall. He leans against the doorframe, blinking slowly. "They only had two rooms left."

The pit of which Jester's heart had slowly been sinking into snaps shut and she jerks forward excitedly. "Wait, roomies? We're roomies? Beau? Beau! Will you share a room with me?!" 

"Yeah, damn, shush would you? People are sleeping," the monk grumbles and starts shoving her down the hall. She pauses long enough to hold out her hand, palm up, and nod at Fjord. "We did some good today, dude. I just, uh… I'm glad you didn't try to lose me in the city."

He chuckles once, scraping his knuckles off his chin, and pushes off from the door frame. Their hands slap together and he drops his on her shoulder, squeezing gently before he turns to his room. 

Down the hall, their door swings open with an echoing slam and Beau winces. Jester smiles sheepishly, her tail swaying behind her head as nerves slowly bubble up. They're roommates. They're about to share a room together. 

She's never shared a room before. Not with anyone. She's never had anyone to share anything with. And now she's sharing with Beau.

(Now she has Beau.) 

"Beau," she hums as the human approaches. An eyebrow is lifted at her and she beams. "Um, which bed do you want?"

"Is this a trick question?"

Jester's brows furrow and she follows the pointed look to the room, head tilting to the side. Huh. "Do you think they lost the other bed?"

"How does one lose a bed?"

"They don't make it, duh," she scoffs. And pauses. And something clicks. "Wait, that was  _ Momma  _ hiding my bed whenever I didn't make it?!"

Beau leans forward, her eyes narrowed. "You actually thought you could just, fuckin',  _ lose _ a bed??"

"No… I was just joking."

"Gods, I'm too tired to make fun of you. C'mon, we need to sleep."

"Okay! I call the left side of the bed!"

"I'll sleep on the floor."

_ "Beauregard!" _

The way the monk flinches, the way her entire posture changes and the scowl slides so easily onto her face, the way those oceans freeze over… Jester regrets using her full name at once. "The fuck do you want?" Beau snaps.

"To share the bed with you?" she asks meekly and makes sure to put on her Very Best Pouty Face because this feels an awful lot like when she's in trouble with Blude. But the tension eases from Beau quickly and she hops after it, bouncing toward the human and taking her hand. She doesn't notice her tail curl around Beau's ankle, or maybe just pretends she doesn't notice. "Come on, please? I don't hog the bed and I'm super soft and a very good little spoon  _ orrrrr  _ even a big spoon if you want. Please? I would feel oh so terrible if you slept on the floor." 

Beau watches her warily, slowly lured towards the only bed in the nice enough room. "I really don't mind sleeping on the floor, they made me do it at the tower all the time."

"This isn't the tower!" Jester declares brightly. "And I'm not them, I'm your very best friend Jester, and we're roommates. The best of roommates. And roommates don't make the other sleep on the floor." 

"Fine, if it means we can finally just fucking crash, I'll sleep with you."

Jester's feet stay rooted to the floor even as Beau throws her bag in the corner and begins stripping off the outer layers of her vestments. The lights go off quick, the lanterns blown out and though it doesn't bother Jester at all, she slowly realizes that maybe humans can't see in the dark.

She winces and giggles when Beau knocks her knees against the bed frame and nosedives against the mattress that isn't nearly soft enough. There's a muffled  _ "fuck," _ in there somewhere and Jester feels her chest tighten with endearment. But she schools her features quickly when Beau wrestles her way into the blankets, innocently staring up at the ceiling while she listens to the monk get comfy. 

And then it's just the two of them, their breathing, alone in the dark room. Silence hangs around them comfortably. A sliver of moonlight spills in from the window, a cool night breeze that Jester almost can't feel. 

She's about to have her first ever sleepover. 

With her second-first ever friend. 

"Beau?"

"Gods, I knew you're a late night talker."

"Sorry."

"I didn't say it was a bad thing."

"Oh." She bites her lip. Tilts her head. Wonders if she's allowed to talk. And shrugs. "I just wanted to say sorry for using your full name, I didn't mean to upset you."

For a while the human says nothing and again, Jester realizes she needs to study up on their habits. Can they fall asleep that fast? Are they all so grumbly and grouchy but somehow also super nice? Are they as warm as Beau is?

But then Beau shifts in the bed and sighs. "Nah, I shouldn't have snapped at you. That  _ is _ my name, it's just… I don't like the people who use it."

"Ohh," Jester hums. Wilts, just a little. Poor Beau. It's clearly a touchy subject and Jester wants to poke, to pry, to discover and uncover the mystery… but life is not a story. She can't just keep reading until Beau forgives her. "What if I said it differently?"

Beau grunts, clearly falling asleep. "Yeah, how?"

"What if I said it more like  _ Beauregard," _ she purrs in the human's ear, leaning close enough to smell sweat and gravel and traces of that gross snake, and something uniquely Beau. Her tail loops around a toned calf, absently.

It takes a moment (more silent studying, watching Beau's chest rise and fall and trying to determine if she's conscious) before Beau licks her lips and nods at the ceiling. "W- yeah, no, you can say it like that, if you want. I don't, uh, I don't care." 

"Good!" Jester chirps happily and presses a kiss to that heated cheek before rolling back to her side of the bed. "I'm so happy we found you, Beau. Goodnight!"

**.**

**.**

**.**

Jester has literally never been happier. 

If you had asked her, back in the day, on one of those many, many, many lonely nights spent in her room, if she thought that one day she would have not one, not two, not even  _ three, _ but  _ six _ friends that she would move mountains for and would move mountains for her, she… well, she probably would have cried because  _ no.  _ That just wasn't a life meant for her. She had her momma and that… that was enough, it was, and she had the Traveller, and, you know, friends are kind of overrated anyway. What's the point when you have one good person in your life? More than that is, actually, kind of greedy, when you think about it.

And Jester has never loved being greedy more than she does now. 

Her heart is  _ full _ as the group stumbles down the street back towards their inn. Molly does his rhythmic walk that isn't quite a skip but also isn't  _ not _ a skip. Yasha, for once, is around and trailing close by. Her mismatched eyes lift to the sky now and then but always, always get dragged back to her colourful tiefling. She raises her hand every time he stumbles - he's probably had the most to drink, besides Nott, but nobody holds their liquor like Nott. 

The little goblin sways from Caleb's shoulders, swinging her flask around as she sings in a garbled voice, an echo of Fjord's much nicer sea song. Her mask hangs around her neck, a smile full of jagged teeth and fangs, and she looks so  _ happy _ that Jester's eyes sting. So Jester looks at Fjord instead, appreciates the way the moonlight skirts off his two-tone skin, how it outlines a chiseled profile in the night. Her heart skips a beat and she skips along with it, hooking her arm with his. The smile that's flashed down at her is made all the more charming with his Little Tusks growing back in and she wonders, not for the first time, if all orcs shave their tusks. 

Caleb stumbles forward and the hand that's out for Molly angles his way, Yasha's focus split expertly between the two. Needlessly, though, as the end of Beau's bo is shoved against Caleb's chest, forcing him back into a more drunken balance and - okay, that's pretty good, Jester thinks, because Beau didn't even turn around to look. The monk twirls her staff once before slipping it back into its holster on her back and Jester tilts her head. 

She and Yasha are, maybe, the quietest of the group. Which is weird because Yasha is  _ literally _ quiet but Beau is so very loud and talks so much, but Jester doesn't know really anything about her. "Beau," she calls thoughtfully and grimaces at the dull throb in her throat.

One thing she does know is that Beau is severely familiar with pressure points and is tough as shit in a fight. 

But her eyes spot the black veins of where she had maybe,  _ maybe _ cheated a little bit and used her  _ Toll the Dead _ spell the Traveller taught her. Beau's fingers touch it, following along a path that Jester can't see past the blue vest, and grunts. "Yeah?"

"What's your favourite colour?"

"I like orange!" Nott tells her very seriously. "It's somehow soft and strong at the same time."

"Orange is lovely, Nott!" Jester agrees with a bubbly voice. Her gaze wanders back to the monk, back to the silent steps she takes, to the serene look on her face in the stillness of the night. "Beau?"

"Yeah, I guess blue and purple, maybe," Beau tosses back over her shoulder. 

Jester's tail flicks, she glances up towards Yasha's face, towards her eyes, her very blue and purple eyes, and smiles past the hiccup in her chest. "Those are also very nice colours! I like blue, too, but also green, and actually yellow is really cool."

"You're all horribly wrong, actually," Molly declares, and twirl around one of the lamp posts, his arm hooked around the metal.

Caleb shakes his head fondly. "You can't be wrong about having a favourite colour."

"You can and you are," Molly insists and tugs at his coat.  _ "Obviously _ red and silver are far superior colours to favour." 

"Says you, Rainbow Man," Fjord grunts at him. 

"I don't even have to ask to know brown is your favourite colour and that invalidates your entire opinion of the matter."

"I… hey now, what's wrong with brown?"

Jester giggles up at the orc. "It's barely a colour, Fjord."

"If it ain't a colour then they wouldn't call it a colour, that means it's a colour." 

"The most mundane colour, second only to beige," Molly sighs.

"You're mundane!"

"That's just not true, darling." He swoops forward to boop Fjord's nose before he continues to lead the group down the road. "Not to worry, my handsomely  _ green _ friend, we shall find you a nicer colour to chase. Perhaps purple?"

**.**

**.**

**.**

There is no greater relief than collapsing in your Momma's arms after having been forced apart from her for so long, going on daring adventures, and then being kidnapped - knowing you might never, ever see her again. Jester doesn't let go until she absolutely has to and even then, it comes with an anxiety that feels like bees buzzing around in her belly. 

When she makes it back downstairs in her disguise to find her friends and watch the show, she can't muster up the smile on her face. Which… well, maybe that's part of her disguise. After all, Jester  _ always _ smiles, that's what she does. She spreads joy and cheer, and mischief sometimes, lots of times, almost always, but that's it. 

Not anxiety.

Not fear.

Not sorrow.

Not these dark clouds that have been plaguing her since she, Fjord, and Yasha were dragged out of the field. 

Jester jumps slightly in her seat, turning her head quickly to look down at her hand. It's weird seeing pale skin where blue usually is, it almost doesn't look right when Beau takes her hand and there is no clash of blue and brown. But a rough thumb delicately swipes the back of her palm like it always does, and Jester looks up into those blue eyes. Beau doesn't say anything, she doesn't bring attention to them, and Jester is so very thankful, but there's a concerned pinch to her brows.

A question lingering in the air.

Jester shakes her head, feels her lips instinctively tick up into a smile. Beau shrugs and leans back in her chair, but their hands stay clasped between them, and Momma watches from the stage when Jester looks back up. Her cheeks burn for some reason, her hand tightening in Beau's. 

She doesn't like being caught feeling sad, she decides. 

She'll craft a better mask. 

Her smile widens.

**.**

**.**

**.**

It's many hours later when Jester feels exhaustion creeping up her spine. The Mighty Nein lounges around her mother's room, drinking and poking at food. Caduceus studies one of the fake plants with the most suspicion Jester has ever seen on his face, his pink eyes crinkled while he rubs a leaf between his fingers. She shakes her head and keeps looking, keeps taking in this small quiet moment.

She used to have so many - her life was made up entirely of small, quiet moments, all lined up together until they became just one large quiet moment. 

Now she fights almost every day.

Now she laughs every day.

Now she lives every day. 

But the quiet moments are nice when they're few and far between. They become precious little things that the group actively seeks out, a nice little pause in their full sprint, enough to catch their breath and keep going. And this is maybe the nicest one of all.

Fjord has his elbow propped up on the table, his chin in his hand as he struggles to keep his eyes open. Caleb hunches over a plate beside him, looking so small or trying to look small as he peers around the room under the red scruff of his hair. His eyes meet Jester's and she watches his beard twitch, knows he's mostly smiling at her, and she blows him a kiss.

He almost slams his face on the table in his haste to look down and away.

Jester grins and searches the rest of the room. Nott stares out the window as lightning cracks across the sky in the distance. Jester wonders if she's thinking about Yasha.

Wonders if she's thinking about Molly.

Wonders if they all do, Beau and Caleb and Nott, the ones that saw him fall. The ones that had to walk away from him. The ones who lost and then lost more but kept going until they won, until they saved the others. 

Jester wonders if they can see Molly's smile when they close their eyes, too.

"Fuck that!" Beau snaps and immediately Jester looks over. She sees the monk draw in on herself, scratching the back of her neck with an awkward look. "Sorry. I mean, no, I don't."

With all the grace in the world, Jester's Momma's smile, if possible,  _ grows _ , and Jester knew it. She  _ knew _ her Momma would find Beau absolutely charming. That unique swirl of incredible kindness and open hostility. How gentle Beau can be in one moment, and then utterly closed off in the next instant. Momma is good at reading people and maybe Jester wanted Momma to meet Beau most of all, so Jester can ask her questions and finally,  _ finally _ have answers. 

Like how eyes can sparkle brighter than any sapphire. 

How a voice can raise goosebumps long after it's stopped speaking. 

How much one can love their best friend before it becomes sort of scary, sort of breathless, sort of…

Jester shakes her head and joins Fjord at the table. "Wakey, wakey!"

"I'm up!" he gasps and jolts to his feet, smacking his knees on the table and sending a pitcher of water to the floor.

Marion looks over at Jester curiously. 

**.**

**.**

**.**

After a long, dragged out goodnight, the rest of the group wanders off towards their rooms for the night. Jester drags her feet as she goes about getting ready for bed in her old room - her fingers tremble through the achingly familiar motions, and she remembers not that long ago they had trembled her first night away from home. She focuses on that instead of the sinking feeling in her chest, remembers Fjord's awkward offer of the bed just before they met Beau, how he moved like some kind of scarecrow until he finally fell asleep and relaxed. 

She stares at her reflection, pulling the brush through her much shorter hair. It used to be so long like Momma's but that's just not practical on the road and maybe, okay, she had wanted to cut it for so long, and finally being away from home was an excuse, but nobody can deny how much time she's saving brushing her hair now. 

Too much time, really, she decides, staring at her big empty bed. An even more familiar sight, sharp edges of nostalgia creeping up, and she can feel her smile tighten. Can feel the pressure in her eyes, swallows against the lump in her throat because, no, she is not crying.

How ridiculous is that? 

She has fought giant snakes, and a demon frog-thing, a manticore, bandits, creatures, she even got kidnapped and tortured for a few days (well the torture was mostly Yasha but even that in itself was a special brand of agony). If she has anything to cry over, it's all of those. Not because she has to sleep alone.

Not because she's just  _ alone _ .  _ Again.  _

Molly  _ died _ for them, for  _ her.  _ He deserves her tears, not her empty bed. Not some  _ thing _ that doesn't and  _ can't _ care how devastatingly lonely her life was here. 

Her bedroom door cracks open and she's gasping in air, blinking her eyes as her smile unfurls, turning to see who it is.

The surprise in her chest settles into a warm hum when Beau walks in blindly, still running a towel through her hair.

(It's so long when she wears it down from the knot. Jester wants to brush it, braid it, run her fingers through it in a way she never did with her own.)

"This place is a damn maze," Beau's muffled words break the spell and Jester shakes her head, bounces forward to take the towel and toss it in the corner where she used to put dirty clothes. Beau grins - that happy, sleepy grin Jester's pretty sure no one else in the Nein has seen. "Which side do ya want?"

"Side of…?" 

A brown thumb is jabbed towards the bed over Beau's shoulder. And her eyes widen. "Ah, shit! I'm not - we aren't, I thought we were still bunking up… I didn't even, shit. Sorry. The rooms are down a floor, yeah?"

It takes a second - where Jester scrambles after the monk and slams the door shut when it opens. Beau spins around to give her an incredulous look and Jester is suddenly very aware how close they are, how her hips press against Beau's. Her hair is thick and soggy and smells like lavender, Jester can see the little scars scattered in her left eyebrow (supposedly from a bar fight), and the crookedness of a nose broken one too many times to ever sit straight again. 

Beau's eyes flick down, her brows furrow very slightly, and then trace along some invisible line. Jester wonders and aches, maybe, to know what Beau sees when she looks at her like that. 

"We are," she breathes and Beau tilts her head. "Bunking up, I mean. Silly Beau!"

The charged air between them dissipates and Jester twirls away again, towards the bed. "I'll take the left!"

It takes Beau a minute of walking the room, jiggling the locks on the windows, and deciding the place is secure enough (she gets so paranoid outside of Caleb's alarm) before she eventually crawls into bed. By then, Jester is drowsy and sleepy, fighting to keep her eyes open as the bed dips very slightly and Beau balances on the edge.

The room quiets, music off distantly in the city, the nightlife still roaring somewhere. Jester stares out the window at the stars and let's the calm air settle over her like another blanket.

Her tail slides between the sheets, curling around Beau's ankle, and she doesn't have to wait a moment before the monk scoots close and curls around her in return. Those warm, brown arms wrap around her, Beau's forehead presses against the back of Jester's neck, and they both sigh deeply. 

"Beau?"

The tired grunt vibrates down Jester's spine, eliciting a delighted shiver. 

Purple eyes stare out at the night sky and despite how tired she is, how her body  _ aches _ with her exhaustion, Jester's mind still races. Her thoughts still worm around in her head, poking and prodding every time she closes her eyes. "What if the Gentleman is my dad?"

"Then that was a weird-ass way to meet him." 

Jester waits a moment for her to continue, huffing and smiling when she doesn't. "For real, Beau! What if I  _ met _ my dad? And he's, well, he's definitely not the good guy. I don't know if he's  _ bad,  _ exactly, but he got us to do some pretty wild stuff! And he's… we wouldn't have been on the road, Lorenzo wouldn't have found us if we didn't… Molly might still be…"

"Molly died a long time ago," Beau grumbles and Jester can  _ feel _ the prickly armour come out. But the human sighs deeply and, if possible, sinks further into Jester. Her thumb traces idle circles against Jester's skin and the tiefling decides to ignore that. Doesn't acknowledge the way her skin tingles beneath Beau's, pretends her face remains very much blue and not the bright purple she fears. "And then he died again with us. And maybe he'll die a couple more times before it sticks. That's what I like to think. That, and not the fact that maybe we  _ all _ would have died, if he didn't, and I don't know about you but I'm not like him, I can't walk away from my own grave like he did."

"It's a super cool tiefling thing," Jester laughs weakly.

Beau's thumb pauses briefly before she squeezes Jester affectionately. "I almost bought that, you ass. Listen, I'm just saying there are too many  _ maybes _ out there. They'll overwhelm you if you give them more thought than they're worth. Wonder all you want but also focus on what  _ is.  _ Marion's your hot as fuck, super nice mom. Dads are actually really overrated. Caduceus would be rotting in his cemetary alone without us. And, you know, do I have a legit shot with your mom?"

"Beau!" Jester laughs and squirms in her arms until she's on her other side, staring into Beau's shiny blue eyes. They're Crinkle Happy, not something Jester sees very often, but always makes her heart skip a beat and eases the worry from her shoulders. "My mom is old, you know. Old enough to be your mom."

"Tieflings age  _ really _ well."

"Humans get so wrinkly." 

"Hey, don't remind me. Some of us dread our wrinkles."

_ "I'll _ still like you even when you're a walking prune," Jester reassures with a cross over her heart. 

Beau scoffs. "This prune could still kick your ass."

"Nuh uh, you'll be old and weak!"

"I'll be old but still quick as a cat and toned as all hell."

"Beau?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks." Jester reaches out to lace their fingers between them, staring at their hands. Hers are soft and smooth, a caster's hands that wield powerful magic but take no punishment. Not like Beau's - rough and littered with scars, her knuckles still sporting the latest round of bruising. Jester runs her fingers over them, oh so very tempted to heal it all away, but Beau likes them for some reason. She's weird about healing magic, only takes enough to keep her standing. Jester wants to ask why that is, why Beau wants to  _ hurt _ so much… but there are jagged edges in those eyes, and she's scared of getting cut on them. "Goodnight, Beau," she whispers instead. 

A heartbeat passes and she glances up, comforted by the fact that the human can't see nor read her. "Goodnight, Jester."

**.**

**.**

**.**

The storm churns and crackles above her, blended so well into the roaring waves the ship crashes through that she can't even hear her own sniffling. Her heart aches.

Her heart  _ aches. _

Why do people want to fall in love? Why would anyone ever want to fall in love and risk feeling like  _ this?  _

Gods, she's tired. Sick and tired, of the ocean, of scary old gods luring Fjord away, of stupid pirate captains, of being so far from home… mostly of the ocean, though, she thinks. She's pretty sure.

Life was good before they got on this Godsforsaken boat. Life made sense - she liked Fjord and Fjord probably liked her. Yeah, he was nervous and squirmy, and maybe just a little insecure (maybe just a lot, probably) but she was pretty sure he  _ liked  _ her. He was open to it, at least. He was starting to warm up to it.

And then they met  _ her.  _

Avantika. 

Sex goddess of the sea. 

Okay and, yeah, maybe it's a little silly getting heartbroken over a  _ crush _ but it wasn't  _ just _ a crush. It was  _ Fjord _ . Her first friend. The guy she got kidnapped with and spent days tied to, listening to the horrors of the Iron Shepards. The guy who wiggled and kicked up a fuss every time their cage was opened so those damn bandits spent all their energy and patience on him instead of her. 

Fjord, who likes to act tough but is a softie underneath it all. Who  _ listens _ to her, you know, even if he treats her like a kid sometimes. Especially since they left, since Avantika got her neck snapped. 

(He'd gone so still and Jester  _ knows _ he didn't love her and maybe didn't even like her but there was a connection there. And now it's gone, and she could see that  _ loss _ in his eyes when Avantika fell for the last time.) 

And Jester is  _ so very tired.  _ She doesn't know what to do anymore.

Where do they run? Why do they run? Is it safe to stop? Is a big Eye Demon gonna make the sea swallow them whole? Is there a new warlock on their trail already? Why were they even out here in the first place?? Does she keep flirting with Fjord? Does she give him space to mourn Avantika? Does she even  _ want  _ to flirt with Fjord? 

And why,  _ why _ , does her heart always hurt when it comes to him? 

Why does she always end up alone, clutching her chest, and crying?

"Jes?" Beau calls over the rain and wind and waves and lightning. Jester almost doesn't hear her.

Almost. "Beau! What are you doing up?" she asks. Ignores the way her cheeks throb from her smile and thanks the Stormlord for hiding her tears in his rain. "You should get some sleep."

There's a sort of nervous energy to the monk that Jester hasn't ever seen before. Different from the delicate way with which Fjord treats her these days, more blunt and bumbling but earnest. 

It's endearing beyond words and if her heart didn't feel cracked, Jester might have cooed and teased the usually stoic human. 

As it is, she listens carefully to the words that come tumbling out without grace but full of thought. Beau wanders closer and closer with each rambling sentence, and Jester feels the thrum of agony in her chest subside. 

_ "You've turned it into something beautiful." _

Her smile fades, softens into something more attentive as the mask slips just slightly. Beau looks at her, Beau  _ sees her,  _ and Jester doesn't flinch. Doesn't look for a distraction, doesn't redirect. She feels… safe, in this storm. In that gaze. 

(Maybe the ocean isn't so bad when it's staring at you so sweetly, so kindly.)

Beau nods a final time, sort of reaffirming her words, and mumbles her getaway. She turns and-

And Jester staggers forward, wrapping her arms around her friend. She's not really sure why, she's too tired to figure out why, to question why, she just wants…

She just wants.

Beau is in her arms and it's enough, it fills the hole. It seals some of the cracks. "Love you, Beau," she tells her.

(The words have been on the tip of her tongue, sleepless nights as she worries where she'll end up, where the others will end up. Will they be together?

Will she drive them off?

Beau is the squirmiest of them all.)

But they come pouring out and she hugs the monk as tight as she dares before the threat of broken ribs stops her. Presses her face against Beau's shoulder and stares out at the ship below them.

A warm hand reaches up to touch hers while the cold dread melts away.  _ "Love you too, Jes." _

Somebody loves her. 

And that's enough.

**.**

**.**

**.**

It's not fair, exactly, how well being a tiefling suits Beau. Red skin has never looked so good before (Momma has red skin and maybe Jester was a little jealous growing up) but seeing it on Beau makes her stomach do… a thing. A jealous thing, probably. Maybe. Her boobs flatten to pecs and it makes her vest hang loosely from her, showcasing her abs and the lighter red scars that now adorn them. Truly just the male tiefling version of Beau, Caleb has crafted a masterpiece, and Jester watches idly as horns curve back around the monk's undercut bun. 

Blue sapphires glitter against the bold red, white fangs flashed in a grin just a little too predatory, and her tail flicks. 

"Dude, why's it purple?" Beau laughs and Jester blinks, shakes her head, and focuses… on Beau looking in her pants? Caleb's face burns with a blush and Beau's chuckle is deep in her chest and Jester maybe swallowed a bird?? "I've got an ombre!" 

"Can I see?" Jester asks before she can really think about it, before she can stop herself, before she realizes why the others give her a weird look. "I mean, not. The. Tail, let's see your tail! Mine has a mind of its own!" She even grabs it to stop the nervous flicking, hooking her arm with Caduceus'. 

"We don't have a  _ long _ time with the spell," Caleb says with his new blue face. "We should get into the city and get as much done as quickly as possible." 

Beau punches his shoulder and scrambles to grab him as he stumbles back from the force but her smile never fades. "Don't sweat it." Her voice - though always deeper and so delightfully rough, has dropped a couple octaves and Jester shivers in the heat of Xhorhas. "Oh shit, I sound sexy. Do I sound sexy? Fjord, is this sexy?"

His own green cheeks look a little darker than normal and he clears his throat. Again. "Listen, y'all need to focus up and not get distracted with your new blue - your, hey, c'mon guys, we got a mission here. Nott? Your husband." 

_ "Fjoooord," _ Jester purrs and absolutely pours herself into the familiarity of teasing the orc. Routine, almost, safe. It makes sense. Eases the jitters in her fingers. "Do you have a thing for  _ teeflinks?"  _ she puts extra emphasis on the word, reaching out to walk her fingers up his chest. 

He scoffs and stares up at the sky, a disarming smile on his face. "In fact, I have a thing for saving husbands and reuniting families, Jessie. Don't you?"

"Of course! We're going to find Yeza, Nott, don't worry. And he's doing good! He sounded much nicer last night."

The little goblin nods but she looks… anxious. Her fingers tap on the flask until Yasha touches her back. "Yup! He's gonna be fine, we're gonna be fine, definitely won't be executed or worse. Everything is… fine." 

"We should probably go," Yasha tells them quietly. 

Caleb falls in beside Jester, very much her twin in the moment. "Okay, we have exactly fifty-eight minutes before the spell fades. Let's get in, find the information we need, and get back out."

"But!"

"We can shop later," he tells Jester softly with the shadow of a smile. "I don't think Beau wants to be in the middle of the city when she reverts back, I know that I do not."

Beau's head snaps up from her pants again and she takes a few awkward steps towards them, her legs bowl'd out slightly. "Yeah, that would suck. How do you walk with this thing swinging around?" 

"Just…" Fjord grimaces, angled away from her, and makes a weird motion with his hand. "Adjust as needed." 

"What does that even - oh!" she takes a few more experimental steps. "Ah, I gotcha. Okay. Okay, let's go." 

The group moves quickly towards the city, inconspicuously. Well. As inconspicuous as such an odd, colourful group can with two very blue tieflings, a  _ weirdly _ large orc, a grungy pink cowman, and Yasha. In fact, the only one who doesn't catch attention is Nott. But they're not paid  _ much _ mind, not a worrying amount, at least, and so they slowly trek through the city. 

It's not… a regular city, or much of a city at all, but Jester kind of likes it. It's very different from home, from the Empire. It's chaotic and creative and charming, and she can't help the skip in her step, can't help but twirl-

_ "Hey!" _

Beau looks up with a sheepish expression, like she was caught with her hand in the cookie jar. One hand holds the end of Jester's tail while the other holds her own and she shakes her head. "No, that's - hi, sorry. I was just, you know, there's a shocking amount of sensation in these. I didn't think you'd notice and that seems like a dumb thought  _ now.  _ Hi."

"What are you doing, Beau??" Jester wonders incredulously and slows down to the back of the group. Caleb lingers, only tugged along by Nott, but keeps looking back anxiously. 

And Beau still hasn't let go of Jester's tail - a red thumb absently caresses one of the rounded edges, kind of like when they're sharing a bed. It's almost automatic at this point, at least, Jester suspects it is, and her chest does that… thing again. "I was just comparing."

"Why?"

"Mine is sharp," she says thoughtfully and despite their mission, their very important reason for being here. Despite the urgency and time crunch from the dangerous element of it all. Beau looks lost in thought. "Is that how he sees me? All sharp edges?"

"Duh?"

Her eyes drop to the ground or maybe Jester's tail, no, yeah, definitely her tail. Beau trails her fingertips down towards the tip and she  _ obviously  _ has never been a tiefling nor had any experience with a tiefling, it's absolutely  _ clear _ she's unaware of how intimate something like this is.

Jester should tell her.

Jester will tell her. 

Later. Maybe. 

"Yours is soft, round."

"Well, I'm very soft, Beau," Jester tells her a little impatiently. Her thoughts buzz like bees in her head, not unpleasant but very noticeable, and she doesn't want to focus on that. Not now. Maybe not ever - she doesn't want to unpack those thoughts, doesn't want to poke and prod them, doesn't want to find out what they mean.

(What happens when  _ Beau _ makes her heart hurt? Who will come find her on the ship then?)

"I don't know how to be soft," she hears Beau say.

It's not fair. Dumping something like that. Right now. Looking like this. 

Stupid, sexy Beau.

"Being soft isn't all that great," Jester says with a sigh and tugs her tail from Beau's hands. "Watch the horns, they have more sensation than you think, too. Do you know how easy it is to get cut when you're soft?"

"Look at my scars, Jes," Beau grumbles but there's that endearing, self-deprecating grin that she just… gods, she's mastered it. "Life cuts, even when you're sharp."

"You don't show it."

"I wasn't allowed," Beau mutters offhandedly and just before Jester's heart can clench with sympathy, Beau scoffs. "But it's just a tail, right?" 

"Are you okay, Beau?" The question tumbles out as soon as she thinks it. The monk nods, gaze drifting off in the distance. "Would you tell me if you weren't?"

The weird atmosphere fades with the purposeful strides that Beau takes to catch up with the group. Her smile gets caught between her teeth, and she reaches out to touch Jester's arm. "I could tell you anything, Jessie."

"You know, this group has a scary number of similarities," Caduceus muses while they walk. "Does anyone else find that odd or particular?"

"I find  _ you _ odd and particular," Nott tells him matter-of-factly. 

**.**

**.**

**.**

"This seems like… not a good idea," Beau tells her. Her red cheeks are a few shades darker and Jester can see her tail flicking anxiously behind her, and maybe there  _ is _ an upside to Beau being a tiefling. She can't lie or bluff half as good as when she's human. 

Jester fiddles with the harness in her hands, glances over to see Fjord adjusting the straps on a still blue Caleb. "It's the best we have right now. There aren't enough spell slots between us all to keep the illusions and disguises up, and what if we get into trouble? We'll need those slots! I know it sucks, Beau, but you have to suck it up."

"Are you okay, Jes?" the monk asks and steps forward. It's not snappy in the slightest - something Jester's been fearing all day. She knows  _ she _ might yell at someone who treated her the way she's been treating Beau, but all she sees is concern in those ocean eyes. A red thumb brushes against her jaw and even in this form, Beau is so  _ warm.  _ "You seem upset today."

Stupid, sexy, observant Beau. 

"I'm fine!" Jester chirps and bounces once for good measure. "I'm a  _ little  _ worried about Nott and maybe us, this is pretty… one wrong move and we're totally fucked, Beau."

She nods and Jester isn't sure if Beau's actually buying any of this, not sure why she can't get the mask to sit right. She feels… she feels too seen, too bare and open under that gaze. She just needs a second to readjust and pretend everything is fine  _ until _ everything is fine. 

So she hooks the collar around Beau's neck and - it's tight. She'd asked it to be a little more snug because Beau is lithe and agile and not very big as a human, but this is  _ tight.  _ She watches Beau lift her chin, swallowing against the collar, and the smirk twitch on her lips. Her pupils dilate just a tad and…  _ oh.  _

Okay. This is fine. It's  _ fine _ , really.

Jester reaches through Beau's robes, bringing another strap around her midsection. Her fingers graze along the red, heated skin (Beau's not ticklish,  _ damn _ ) and she struggles with the clip, has to step closer while Beau holds up her arms and the back of her vest. Jester ignores the heat radiating off her, ignores the smell of sweat and dust and  _ Beau _ , ignores how  _ comforting _ she finds it, ignores the bird in her stomach. The clip latches and she hums, adjusting and tugging at the strap, following it back around Beau's abs. 

Every time she glances up, just a handful of inches shorter than Beau -  _ maybe,  _ the monk is watching her silently. Quietly. Unreadable and, shit balls, it really only took her thirty seconds to learn how to bluff in her new body? It's not  _ fair.  _ Jester takes another strap, roughly clips it to the one around Beau's abs, and stretches it up her torso towards the collar. Beau grunts and they stumble a step, and warm palms grab Jester's hips, a blue hand splays across a red chest… 

_ (Fuck. _

_ Shit. _

No, no, no. She is  _ not _ getting caught in a moment, she is  _ not _ harbouring a stupid  _ crush _ on her best friend, she is  _ not _ setting herself up for heartbreak  _ again.  _

She is  _ not _ the naive little girl falling in love with everyone who so much as smiles at her. She has  _ grown _ on their journey, she has learned  _ so much _ , she refuses to revert back, to go back, to be less than she is now. 

Heroes don't fall in love. They fight monsters and save husbands and rescue friends. They collapse in an unbreakable bubble after a day of adventuring, sleeping until morning and then doing it all again. They don't pine, and want, and wonder, and ache for things they can't have, for people they can't have.

Jester does  _ not _ have a silly, stupid little crush on Beau.

She doesn't.) 

Beau wraps a hand around Jester's, guiding it up to clip the strap to the collar. These ones can't be as tight, Jester hooks her fingers around it and follows it back down Beau's chest, knuckles brushing against her abs.  _ "Is-"  _ She clears her throat and glances away before staring pointedly at the strap. "Is this going to be enough room for your boobs?"

(Don't think about Beau's boobs.)

"Yeah," Beau chuckles, that deep and throaty laugh of hers, and Jester stares up at her grin. "By Ioun, Jester, you're cute as a button."

"I - what?" She perks up, half alarmed and half breathless and,  _ no,  _ damn it, this is the opposite of what she wanted to be! 

Beau shakes her head and shrugs out of her vest, carefully rolling it up and taking off her monk sash with the fancy writing. "Can you put these in your bag? I don't think a human would be wearing them here."

"Oh, right. Good idea, okay, okay, okay." She quickly and much less carefully shoves them into her bag, and goes about clipping the rest of the straps. There's just no time for an internal freakout, Fjord is already finished with Caleb and the group is waiting on them. 

She can  _ think _ later, right now everybody needs her to act… and acting is what Jester does best.

"These are  _ perfect! _ " she gushes and twirls, wiggling her fingers at the armless goblin. "Thank you! Come along, Beau!"

"I'm- _ okay!" _ the monk gasps softly when Jester hooks a finger in the loop on the front of the collar and  _ tugs _ . Beau scrambles after her eagerly and Jester's smile comes a little more easily. "Ready?"

Fjord nods idly and blinks a few times, glancing at Caleb's collar thoughtfully. "Yeah, let's git, we got shit to do still. C'mon." 

"I'm not sure I like this," Caleb mutters. His eyes linger on the way Jester pulls their tiefling-human around. "Perhaps we could-no? Okay." 

Fjord's chuckle echoes out the door, a playful smack on the awkward wizard's ass as they go. "It'll be  _ fine. _ "

**.**

**.**

**.**

Turns out it was fine. Like,  _ super _ fine. Super fine in the way that not  _ only _ were they still alive, not in jail, and not in trouble - but they were actually  _ rewarded.  _ They have the Bright Queen's favour, as close as you can get to a free pass in this city, and a  _ house.  _

A house.

It's been so long since Jester's had a home.

(She tries not to pay attention to the sting that comes with it when Essek leads them up.

Who cares if she  _ lost _ her last home. There are worse things. Hell, Fjord never even had a home to begin with, and Beau? From what little she's let loose, her home was a twisted, cold, hateful version of what it should have been.) 

It's a beautiful house, too, and not that beauty matters or their house  _ needed _ to be nice, it's just kind of a bonus that it is, and Jester scrambles in the front door after watching Essek leave. "This place is the balls!"

Fjord claps his hands together, turning in a circle amidst their little foyer. "Alright, let's say we go claim bedrooms and meet back here in ten?"

_ "Ten?" _ Jester echoes incredulously. "You expect us to find the perfect room in  _ ten _ minutes?" 

"Uh… yup, I do, yeah. Get on it, Jessie."

She huffs at his grin and grabs Beau's hand, dragging her to the nearest door. "Can you believe him? How are we supposed to find our room in ten minutes?"

"Are we still bunking together?" Beau wonders as she's pulled along. Before Jester can choke on the embarrassment and dread pooling in her stomach, though, Beau laces their fingers and squeezes affectionately. "So we're gonna need space, two beds. Don't get distracted by the pretty, small rooms."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. This one is shit! Next!"

"Well, it's not  _ \- shit!  _ Damn, Jester, watch the arm!" 

Beau twists, spinning under her own elbow so it isn't bent at a weird angle anymore and Jester would be impressed, but she's too busy staring down Nott on the other side of the stairs. 

The goblin bares her teeth, shifting her weight from side to side, fingers twitching with Yeza just behind her. He peeks over her shoulder, offering a nervous smile and wave. Nott turns her head very slightly. "They're the enemies, sweetie, don't wave to them. It undermines my authority."

"I thought they were your friends."

"There  _ are _ no friends when it comes to picking bedrooms. Only lovers and roomies or a little bit of both. Everyone else is collateral."

"Oh."

Jester turns her head ever so slightly as well. "I can slow Nott down, Beau, but you gotta get up those stairs."

"She'll never catch me-"

"Beau is like a leaf, don't try to catch her, just keep running, muffin," Nott whispers actually rather loudly.

"-I'm like a," Beau pauses to grin, tilting her head, "did you just say leaf?"

"Yeah, were you saying leaf?"

"Literally right about to."

"That's so funny when that happens, just the timing of it all is-"

Jester throws her hands out to the side. "Focus! We still need a bedroom!"

Everyone drops back into their tense energies. Beau grabs Jester's shoulders, ready to vault herself forward and dart up the stairs, only half worried Nott might pull her crossbow. Jester starts twisting her fingers, getting ready to pull up her lollipop and block the stairs right after the monk, while Nott decides if she should  _ throw _ Yeza at Beau or shoot her. 

"Oh, wow, there's a whole other floor to this place," Caduceus marvels in the stairwell.

_ "Go, run!" _

_ "Beau, move!" _

In a flash of blue and green, both Nott and Beau dash into the stairs, a brilliantly glowing, sparkling lollipop closing it off behind them. Yeza gasps and skitters to a stop, throwing his arms up, and Jester feels bad enough to stop and make sure he's okay. "It's just a spell, Yeza, I wouldn't hurt my frien-"

"Fuck, Nott, don't bite me!" Beau growls and a second later, Nott's crossbow comes tumbling down the bottom steps. "Outta the way, Deucy!"

"Clothes-line her, Caduceus! I'll pay you!"

"Hi guys, have you seen this-"

"Why are your limbs so long?! Move your legs, man!"

"You big tree,  _ move!" _

Jester waves her hand to the side, dragging her enormous lollipop out of the way as she and Yeza peer up. Nott claws between Caduceus' shield and the wall, trying to squeeze through the space - wiggling her hips with a grunt. Beau skips it altogether, one hand on Caduceus's shoulder while she kicks  _ off _ the wall, over them both, and lands up on the second floor. "You shouldn't run on stairs, Miss Beau. Or walls."

"You damn monk!" Nott growls after her. She leans forward, pulling aside Caduceus' pantleg to look back down the stairs - upside down. "They haven't claimed anything yet, baby, let's move!"

Yeza gasps and sort of bounces in place. "Oh! Uh, a-after you," he tells Jester politely. 

Nott drops her face into her palm. "I don't think you're grasping the rules of engagement." 

**.**

**.**

**.**

By the time Jester finds Beau, much later than Fjord's  _ ten minutes _ , the human is collapsed back on a bed in a larger room, panting heavily. It's barren and boring but totally a blank canvas, and Jester already has ideas floating around in her head about how to decorate. 

(Nothing as fun or concrete as Yasha's room, yet. But plans.)

"So you claimed a side of the room?"

Beau twitches and Jester wonders if she actually managed to sneak up on the monk or if maybe Beau was falling asleep. (She could sleep for days, at this point. Exhausted isn't even close to how she feels.) "We can switch if you want, I don't care. I just ran through this entire house three times."

"I like this side," Jester muses and walks to her bed, hands on her hips. "It's definitely the cooler side."

"Gee, thanks."

"It's not my fault your side picking skills are subpar, Beau."

The human flops onto her stomach, blowing her bangs out of her face and letting her arm drape over the side of the bed. Her fingertips draw shapes in the dust on the floor. "I dunno, my side has a pretty excellent view."

Jester looks for a window, brows tugging together quizzically when she glances at Beau. "You don't have any… oh." 

Blue eyes watch her fondly.

She feels the purple staining her cheeks and quickly turns away, tossing her bag on the bed and busying herself with pulling out her spare clothes. "You're so silly, Beau. Silly and sweet!" 

"I've been called worse."

"Beau!"

Brown shoulders rise and fall in a shrug, Beau up and across the room in one graceful, languid move. "Well, I have," she says and folds one of the rolled up shirts that Jester tosses down. "Asshole is a common one."

"You're not an asshole!" Jester gasps and yanks her shirt away to smack Beau with it.

A grin is flashed at her. "I am."

"Not to me."

"Not to you."

Jester watches her, watches the way her scarred fingers nimbly fold a frilly dress so that it doesn't wrinkle. There's something… soft about Beau when she's like this. Quiet and open, almost inviting. "Why not?"

"I don't give a shit if I hurt people's feelings," Beau says with an intent focus on the shirt in her hands. She nods to herself, as if reaffirming it in her head. "I know I should or I'm supposed to, it's polite and  _ good.  _ But I just don't care. I say things and people cry and it annoys me or sometimes amuses me, I like when that happens," she grins for a second before it fades. "Fjord's helping me work on that though. Be better. Not as much of an asshole. So I try not to say things that make people cry anymore, even if I still don't care."

A beat passes between them and Jester waits even longer. She licks her lips. "I don't understand-"

"I hurt when you hurt?" Beau tells her but it comes out soft and awkward and almost confused, and Beau  _ stares _ at the shirt in her hands. "When you cry,  _ I  _ cry and I wanna fight something at the same time. When you found out about Molly, I - fuck, Jes, my damn heart  _ broke.  _ I couldn't breathe. And when your eyes get all sad, when your smile doesn't match, it's like my ribcage gets all brittle." Beau coughs, sniffs once in that way Fjord does (it's cute. Shitballs.) and sets down the shirt. "I don't… I don't ever wanna be the reason you got sad eyes, Jester." 

_ Don't say that's sweet. Beau just opened up, telling her that's sweet is a stupid thing to say. Think of something better. Something meaningful. Something. Anything at all. Oh, Traveller, help me. _

"I think you're more good than you think you are," Jester finds herself saying and immediately wants to crawl under her bed. She blinks at the wall, feels Beau's gaze on the side of her face, but can't bring herself to look. 

So the monk chuckles. Presses the shirt against the bed, and nods. "Thanks. I'm gonna go tell Fjord we found our bedroom. There better not be any dicks on the walls when I get back."

"No promises!" Jester shouts after her and drops back on the bed when the door closes. "I think you  _ are _ good, Beau. I think you're sweet and kind, the way you volunteer to take last watch because it sucks and nobody else wants it. I think you're generous, how freely you give what you have to help those who have nothing, even if you glare at them while you do it, or say the wrong thing. I think you're gentle and compassionate, the way you won't let any of us beat ourselves up, even as you come down so cruelly on yourself. 

"Beau, I think you think you're an asshole because you grew up being treated like one." 

That.

That's what she should have said.

Gods, what's wrong with her?

**.**

**.**

**.**

Some people might take a week off to actually sleep and have down time, particularly after the insanity they went through just to get here. If anyone deserved an entire week off to do nothing, it was the Mighty Nein. But even when they're taking a break, when they're relaxing, they're all busy working on  _ something. _

Jester remembers the days and days and days that went by where she would do absolutely nothing in her room all day. She remembers laying on her bed, staring at a book, unable to scrounge up the energy to even lift the cover unless she heard Momma coming up the stairs. 

She almost can't imagine that, right now.

Between racing to finish Yasha's bedroom, helping with the tree, and making the hot bath, Jester feels like she could just drop down in the middle of the floor and sleep. Her muscles  _ burn _ from all the effort but her face  _ aches _ with a smile that won't leave. She is surrounded by family and friends and she absolutely loves it.

Loves the way Yasha's eyes widen and the soft gasp tumbles from her lips when she looks around her room. The way their usually quiet, stoic barbarian smiles so gently, looks at Jester so tenderly. (did she used to look at Zuala like this?)

Jester loves being able to look up from her jar to see Caduceus hanging his own from one of the taller branches in the tree. He lit up a fat little bumblebee with a spell and now it follows him around so he can see in the dark, and if that isn't just the  _ cutest _ thing Jester has ever seen. He's doing so much better, he's come so far from being so lost on the Ball-Eater.

Sometimes Jester catches a glimpse of Fjord in his room when she's passing by, nailing up shutters on his windows. She always offers to help or decorate but he seems weird about it and she leaves before he gets weird about her, and sometimes she bumps into Caleb in the halls after that.

His arms are always full of books that he's taking to or from their library and though he tries to hide it, Jester can see the ease in his shoulders. He's much calmer these days, so loose outside the Empire, and she supposes that makes sense. No higher-ups are hanging around Xhorhas, nobody that would recognize him, and it's good to see that relief in his face. It's nice seeing him… peaceful.

Almost as nice listening to Nott and Yeza buzz around the lab, and Jester pokes her head in once and a while. The first day, Nott more or less followed her husband around, handing him what he needed, but these days they're both elbows deep in… well, stuff. Jester has no clue, she doesn't understand Halfling so she can't even try to guess what they're doing, but the smiles on their faces are heartwarming. 

Sometimes she has to run away though, when a small fire gets away from Nott, or they're both splattered with goop. She's not sure she  _ wants  _ to know what they're doing.

And Beau… if she's being totally honest with herself, then maybe she's just a  _ little bit _ avoiding Beau, or just very okay with being too busy to go talk to her. 

But it's not Jester's fault! She just  _ can't _ think of the right things to say to Beau right now and she feels so  _ foolish _ , and Beau is being so  _ gentle _ and  _ soft _ with her - which, okay, she usually is, but Jester is just super aware of it now. Just super aware of Beau and - okay.

The monk is  _ always _ stretching or sparring or working out. How is anybody supposed to talk to her when she's all sweaty and flushed and muscle-y like that? How can anyone be expected to concentrate when all they can think about is tracing the scars on Beau's back with their fingers? And it's not like she can, exactly, hide it. Her stupid tail keeps swishing whenever Beau looks at her and she has to run away because, listen, someone might take her swishing tail the wrong way. They don't understand it has a mind of its own. It doesn't mean she  _ likes _ Beau, okay?

She doesn't. Crushes are stupid and pointless and childish and she  _ refuses _ to harbour anymore. Nobody else in the group has crushes, they're all too busy, and so is she.

"Got some paint on your chin, Jessie," Beau tells her and the tiefling blinks a few times. Realizes she wandered down the wrong hall and is heading towards the library (where she definitely hasn't noticed Beau hangs out in with Caleb) instead of the tree. She looks down at the paints in her arms, tries to tell Beau that she's decorating Caduceus' area, and shrugs instead. "Here."

Beau shuffles the books in her hands to tuck them under one arm, and lifts her hand to Jester's face. Her dark skin is so  _ warm _ , and the nerves in Jester's skin beneath her fingertips come alive. Blue eyes stare at Jester's face intently, Beau drags her thumb across Jester's chin, and her cracked lips tick up in a smile.

Jester sucks in a sharp breath. "Beau?"

"Hm."

She blinks and stares at Beau's lips and has to beat down the overwhelming urge she has to lean up and  _ kiss _ her best friend. Her heart hammers in her chest painfully, she can feel Beau's fingers run along her jaw to hook behind her neck, and she tilts her head up-

"Beauregard, can you also bring up - oh." 

They both break apart like they scalded each other, and Jester fumbles with her paints much less gracefully than Beau hugging her books to her chest. 

Caleb's face burns and his body becomes very still. "Sorry…" he says slowly and looks between the two of them. "I thought you were downstairs still."

"Nope. Right here. In the hall. With Jester. And you."

"Indeed," he agrees. Blinks. Waits.

Jeater clears her throat. "I was counting my paints and got turned around, I'm actually headed the opposite way. Have-have fun reading, bye!" she calls over her shoulder and  _ quickly _ makes her getaway.

Because what the  _ fuck _ , Traveller. What was that?! Was she-? Were they-?

Oh,  _ balls. _

**.**

**.**

**.**

The first time they step out of The Big Night Umbrella, Beau and Caleb almost sag with relief. Simultaneously, they both raise their arms up, as if  _ willing _ their bodies to absorb the sunlight quicker. Jester thinks she might remember that humans have a thing about the sun, they get weird and start unravelling if they go too long without it. 

Humans are weird, the more she thinks about it.

But the smiles on their faces makes her heart  _ happy _ and it distracts her from the fact that they're, once again, on another dangerous mission. 

Beau looks over at her, the elated smile on her face, and Jester's cheeks heat up. She catches her own smile between her teeth, and wiggles her fingers in a wave.

And then they're off.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Falling out of a tree is, actually, one of the highlights of her day because this particular tree is really, really,  _ really _ big and falling from it is kind of like flying. 

The experience is marred only by the fact that an equally enormous bird is trying to murder them. Not just kill, but murder. He's got some kind of bird-vendetta, she knows it.

So obviously the only logical conclusion is to make herself look like a leaf and watch Nott pop out of sight. But the bird stares at her and starts angling in again and, you know what, fuck this roc. They just wanted to climb a really cool tree.

Beau's hand latches onto her and Jester can feel the monk tense, watches her look up at the bird and then Fjord. She says something but Jester can't hear past the rushing air in her ears, and Fjord nods, prepares for something.

"No!" she shouts and grabs Beau's arm. "Don't throw me just hold on tight!" 

It's confusing, Jester can see the furrow in the monk's brow but, gods, she trusts Jester  _ so freely _ that she simply hangs on. "Fjord's got a plan!" she shouts to be heard.

And Jester nods, waits for that huge beak to cut through the air closer, and closer, and closer…

Her grin is brilliant and taunting, and Jester pulls Beau against her, wraps her arms around Beau's waist and her tail around her thigh. Beau hugs her tightly, stretching her arm out until it almost touches the beak, and flips the bird… the bird. Green magic rips open behind them, and they plummet through Jester's Dimension Door.

**.**

**.**

**.**

The three-armed, wailing man… creature falls to the ground, totally obliterated in just a few short seconds, and Jester feels a swell of pride and exhilaration mixed together. It leaves her breathless and giddy and she wants to run over to Beau and-

Yasha's weapon goes slack, just a little, and Jester can only faintly make out the dusting of pink across her pale cheeks. She says something, maybe, but it's too dark to make out, but Beau grins, flexes just a little more than necessary.

That giddy pride sours into something more akin to acid but it leaves Jester just as breathless and maybe reeling more than before. This is…

Daunting horror (muted, she's been through worse, seen worse, but this still… sucks) builds in her stomach like a lead ball. She's been here before. This is how it started last time. It's Avantika all over again but worse because it's  _ Yasha  _ and Jester  _ loves _ Yasha. With the jealousy comes nauseous guilt, and she feels  _ sick. _

Absolutely sick.

So she angles away and catches Fjord, bloody and broken, in the peripheral of her eye.  _ That's _ something she can fix. Something to focus on, a goal and task because - actually, you know what? She's pretty good at goals and tasks and who cares if Beau is flirting with Yasha  _ again _ . She has people to save and asses to kick, and she doesn't care anyway. It's not like she has a crush on Beau, anyway. 

Whatever,  _ anyway _ .

When Fjord gets back up, Jester scans the rest of the battleground for more fallen friends. Caleb and Caduceus don't look too good, and Fjord just kissed her cheek, she could probably get to them if she curved around… wait.

Wait.

What?

Jester touches her cheek, looks up to see Fjord send two blasts of eldritch magic at another shambling, wailing man creature. Her face burns and instinctively her eyes trace across to find Beau. Blue and purple meet so very briefly before their connection is broken, before the fight roars up again, and more friends need saving. 

And, she doesn't know  _ why,  _ after the fight is over and everyone is catching their breath - when Caleb brings up the bubble and everyone hunkers down for the night, she doesn't sit beside Beau. She hasn't really looked at her since that connection broke, since Jester could still feel the ghost of Fjord's lips on her skin, and more of that thick, black ooze of guilt came pouring in.

Why should she feel guilty?

If Beau wants to flirt with Yasha then Jester is allowed to flirt with Fjord. And she's allowed to,  _ anyway _ , because it's not like they're even dating or anything! She doesn't owe Beau a single thing, so whatever. 

She doesn't feel guilty or weird or sad.

She's just sleepy, and-

Beau drops down to the ground beside her, laying back on her bedroll. The monk doesn't say anything, just hooks her hands behind her head and stares up through the bubble. Jester burrows deeper into her own bedroll. For a while, neither of them say anything, and the bubble is quickly filled with soft snoring. 

Jester's eyes trace the outline of Beau's profile in the dark, the subtle rise and fall of her chest. Even in these quiet moments, she's very… open and closed at the same time and, damn it all, it's infuriating! How is anyone supposed to  _ read _ her? How is anyone supposed to have any kind of inkling to how she feels or what she thinks? Where is Jester supposed to scrounge courage from, if not cheeks that betray themselves with a blush, or eyes that linger just a little too long? 

Does Beau  _ like _ her or is this all just one-sided  _ again?!  _

"You're supposed to be sleeping," Beau murmurs up at the sky.

Jester huffs and flips onto her other side, angrily pulling up her blanket. "You're supposed to be on the other side of the bubble!"

"So you  _ are _ mad at me then."

"No."

"We always sleep together."

"Not always." 

Beau chuckles and the embers in Jester's chest burn. "Since the day we met."

"Why don't you just go sleep with Yasha-"

"I knew it, I  _ knew _ you were upset about that-"

"I'm not, Beau," she tries for breezy but it comes out more like a growl and she's not certain she didn't end it in Infernal. "I don't even care."

But then Beau is at her back with her arm snaking over Jester's hip to lace their fingers, and Jester doesn't stop her. She's too distracted by how easily they fit against each other, how free Beau is with her affection when she's always so distant with people. She feels Beau's lips against her shoulder, the monk's face tucked against her. "I'm sorry, Jes."

"Don't be. But why?"

"I made your eyes sad."

Jester doesn't say anything, she just lays there with her best friend molded to her back, scowling at Caleb's beard as he snores softly. He needs a shave again, not quite the level of hobo wizard as when they first met, he's  _ clean _ these days, but he's… ragged. Tired. Do they all look like that? 

Gods, she's tired. She can't keep doing this, can't keep playing this game, waiting on the sidelines for people to notice her-

"I like you, Jester," Beau tells her softly and so quietly that the tiefling almost doesn't hear over her own thoughts. But Beau squeezes her or maybe just holds on tighter, presses her forehead against a blue shoulder. "And I don't know how to do  _ that.  _ I can flirt with Yasha because that's where it ends, she's not into me - I, actually, I think she might be into you, if I'm being honest, but. But if you liked me back, I wouldn't even know how to  _ begin _ . It's not like your stories, Jes, but it's complicated and I never learned how, I never wanted to learn how to be with someone. If you even like me, which I'm not so sure these days, and  _ fuck _ , man, now I'm rambling?" 

So… Beau likes her?  _ Likes _ her? Jester clears her throat. "What do you mean?"

It seems like Beau isn't going to answer, Jester can  _ feel _ the hesitation and awkwardness start to brim up. She's seen firsthand how effectively Beau can cut herself out of a conversation and withdraw so completely - but Jester's heart skips a beat and suddenly she doesn't know what she fears worse, getting hurt or not  _ pursuing  _ this. Her tail slowly wraps around Beau's thigh, a reassuring pressure.

(Because like hell if she hasn't noticed how tactile Beau is, how well she responds to  _ pressure _ )

"You smell good," Beau tells her abruptly, gruffly. She scoffs at herself and Jester giggles softly because what an  _ absolute  _ dork. "Like cupcakes and bread, but also like that pink flower in your mom's room. I like waking up and just, fucking, smelling you all over me and the bed because you are incapable of staying on your side-"

"Hey-!"

"I like that too, though," Beau quickly tells her. Drags her thumb across the back of a blue hand so very gently. "You're soft. Everything about you is so soft and inviting, you're too damn easy to talk to, to be around, you make me feel safe and comfortable, and… it's just, like, made all the more better because I know you have jagged edges hidden away in there. I never learned how to stay soft in this world, I don't think a lot of people can." 

Big hot tears roll down Jester's cheek. Lost against the mattress, in her hair, she bites her tongue hard enough to quell the lump in her throat. She's not even sure  _ why _ she's crying, Beau is saying such sweet things about her. Nothing to cry over, not any reason to be this stupidly emotional… and yet.

It's exhaustion, it has to be.

Still just tired.

"You could punch me through a wall and there are not enough words to describe how fucking  _ sexy _ that is to me," Beau whispers. Jester can feel the rumble of her voice against her back, can feel her eyes droop, isn't sure she can stay awake much longer. She turns on her back and other side, all while Beau freezes and looks like a fish out of water, before curling into the monk again. Slowly, more hesitant than before, Beau's arms wrap around her again. "And I can't explain the dragon in my chest every time you look at me." 

"Beau-"

"Not tonight," the human tells her. Hugs Jester tighter to her, before dragging her hand up and down in lazy circles along Jester's back. "I just didn't want you to fall asleep mad at me. We'll talk later, promise." 

**.**

**.**

**.**

They don't actually talk later, is the thing. In the morning, Caduceus lightly shakes them awake and there's this pause when they look at each other. Jester doesn't know if Beau's hopeful look is a mirror of her own or vice versa, but then Caleb is chattering about distance and miles and the time it will take to reach their destination. Yasha surveys the horizon with distant eyes and a thoughtful air, and everybody is so  _ close.  _

This probably isn't the best time or place to have  _ that _ kind of conversation.

So Jester skims her fingers up Beau's arm as she passes on her way to Yarnball, and the group moves on.

**.**

**.**

**.**

She has to swallow her heart when Beau almost topples off Caleb's Moorebounder, trying to catch the projectiles from impaling themselves in the beast. She thinks of the nastiest, meanest bees she can, and her magic tears open a space for them to pour through right over these orcs that are chasing them.

The Mighty Nein leaves them in blood, dust, and ruin.

**.**

**.**

**.**

It's actually pretty freaky when they get there. Angels crying blood? Come on, that's some classic horror literature right there. Jester has read the books, she knows this doesn't end well. 

But she also knows they're the heroes of this story and the heroes always win. Even if it sucks before it gets better.

Splitting her attention between Yasha and Beau is difficult but when Beau waves her off, nods towards Yasha - all hunched shoulders and furrowed brows as she studies the face of an angel statue, Jester sighs in relief and skips over to their quiet barbarian. "How are you feeling?" she asks softly and touches the stone of the statue.  _ Oh. _

Yasha says something but Jester presses her ear against the angel, closing her eyes, and tells Yasha to do the same. "Is that music?"

"Yeah, a pretty nice beat, actually."

"Maybe they were rockharpers too?" Yasha ventures. Her lips twitch with a smile and Jester grins, watches mismatched eyes quickly drop away. 

She presses her hand against Yasha's elbow. "I mean, not as great as you were, but maybe backup harpers? I don't think that's a word. Caleb?"

"Harpists."

Nott jumps, swinging her crossbow around.  _ "Harpies?!" _

"Harpers!" Jester reassures.

And Caleb corrects, amused but firm,  _ "harpists." _

"Oh, yeah, yeah. That one." Jester frowns and nods until the others look away, until more attention gathers around Fjord and those bones than Jester and Yasha. "It's kind of spooky down here."

"Yeah. It would be cool if I didn't feel like we're about to die."

Blue eyebrows jump. "You think we're gonna  _ die?" _

"There are worse fates," Yasha replies with a simple shrug. She drags her fingers down the cheek of an angel, smearing blood across the face. "Do you know anything that can turn someone to stone?"

"Do all angels look the same?" Jester asks instead. "These guys look pretty identical." 

"You don't think they're people?"

"The ones with bones probably were."

"Probably?"

"Hey look, man, I don't know how Celestial shit works. Technically,  _ technically,  _ I'm from the opposite side of the spectrum." Jester perks up suddenly, her tail swishing. "Oh, you know what? You should say my name in Celestial and I should say yours in Infernal."

Slowly, Yasha's brows pinch together. "I don't think that's a good idea. There's no direct translation to your name, the closest would be  _ foolish _ and that's kind of mean."

"Ah, but you  _ do _ know Celestial then," Jester says with a grin. "I was pretty sure you did but you've never confirmed it. And, anyway, your name would still be Yasha in Infernal. Names usually stay the same."

A heartbeat passes before the barbarian rolls her eyes, scoffing with the softest smile. "Tricky little tiefling." 

"Did Molly speak Infernal a lot?"

The question catches them both off guard. Yasha sighs and looks around the rest of the room, moving on to the next statue. She waits for Jester to follow, and bobbles her hand. "Some. Mostly just to swear or get angry at people, but he didn't get angry very often."

"He seemed pretty happy."

"He was. The happiest person I've ever known. I… I miss that."

"Me too."

Yasha chuckles sadly and looks up at the ceiling. "I'm trying to imagine what he would think of this place. Imagining him in here is difficult though."

"He would probably complain about the lighting," Jester ventures thoughtfully and taps her chin. "And tease Caleb about having to hold his hand. Oh! But I bet he would love how dramatic it all is, angels crying blood is in the same neighbourhood as crawling out of your own grave…"

And so Jester continues, spinning tales and reminiscing about their old friend.

Anything to distract her from the absolute dread building up in her chest.

**.**

**.**

**.**

She can't breathe. Or she's breathing too much. Or it just isn't  _ staying _ in her lungs. Or everything has gone so very horribly wrong, so devastatingly wrong, so very painfully wrong.

Jester watches Caleb pull his bloody hands apart and Beau grows. She grows, and grows, and grows, until she's bigger than Yasha and maybe a little bigger than the Laughing Hand. Her hands clap down over her ears and-

_ Gods, no! Traveller,  _ **_no!_ **

Her jaw clenches tight and instead she uses her bo staff to knock the Laughing Hand's knife-arm to the side. Her eyes scan the room once - so very quickly, such a sharp monk, she is, and land on Yasha. Jester's nails dig into her palm and she looks between the two, can see Beau's mind churning as she decides whether or not she'll try for Yasha one last time. 

But that unsettling grin is cold and empty, and the beast's actual hand grab's for Beau-

The monk is gone, two steps back and vaulting between the closing doors. "Beauregard!" Caleb chokes out and stumbles forward with Fjord, both of them grabbing at her shoulder when she's caught between the doors. 

Jester hears a crack, can almost feel the echo of a break in her  _ own _ ribs, but before she can lift her hand, Beau twists roughly and slips all the way through.

The doors slam shut.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Beau picks up Caduceus when he pops back into sight. She shrinks back down to her regular size by the time they run.

Nott doesn't stray from the party on the bridge.

Jester can't even hear the whispers past the beat of her heart in her own ears.

She doesn't see Fjord grab an unresponsive Beau. 

She doesn't see anything until she sees the sand outside.

They left Yasha.

**.**

**.**

**.**

The ride back to town is a blur. Bloody, bruised, and so very tired, they claw their way up to the hostel-esque room and slowly unpack their bed rolls. She can hear the others talking around her, she can hear Fjord's voice - rough, quaking, and so very upset. He's angry, she can see that, more than the others, and Jester remembers that he  _ went back for Yasha. _

He tried to save her, took their Thunderstep…

And popped up alone. 

Fjord has the face of someone betrayed and Jester's heart breaks for him.

Caleb and Nott haven't said much but she can see the way their wizard clings to his vulture. Not quite the same as a cuddly cat, it's big and sharp and feathery, but Frumpkin tries his best to tuck into Caleb's chest. Nott scruffs his feathers absently but mostly watches the group with big yellow eyes full of uncertainty. 

This was such a bad idea.

Why did they come here? 

**.**

**.**

**.**

When she wakes up the next morning, Caduceus is curled around her back, big and warm and fuzzy. She blinks her scratchy eyes, looking around the room and squints against the sun that spills in through the windows. She simultaneously feels like she's slept one thousand years, and never a day in her life. 

Beau sits beside her, knees hugged to her chest. The light catches the blue of her eyes and she looks so very far away, maybe back in that tomb. There's dried blood still caked in her eyebrow, her brown skin littered with scratches of all sizes and depths, and everything dusted with dirt and mud. Her knuckles are all chewed up, bloody and jagged and painful to look at.

Jester reaches out to touch her arm - and stops when Beau silently drops her head. "She was right there," the monk's rough voice sounds like it was dragged through gravel before leaving her lips and Jester's heart sinks in her chest. "I should have grabbed her. She was  _ right _ there. I could have grabbed her." There are no tears - Jester realizes she's never seen Beau get sad before. Angry? Oh yes, but never sad. The tension in the human's jaw makes Jester's teeth ache. "Molly and Yasha. How could I let them both be taken?"

Like sucking a particularly sour lemon, Jester's face scrunches up. Indignation flares at the edges and she has to put in effort not to raise her voice when she leans up on her hand. "You didn't  _ let _ them get taken-"

"I was there," Beau snaps back and dry eyes glare at her just over the crook of her elbow. "Both times. I just stood there, just watched.  _ Both times. _ I should have stopped the glaive and I should have grabbed her."

"This is  _ not _ your fault," Jester tells her carefully but very, very firmly. She lifts Caduceus' arm to sit up and curl herself around Beau, hooking her tail around the human's ankle. "Molly wasn't your fault, Beau, you know that.  _ Yasha  _ wasn't your fault. Caduceus was right-"

She scoffs and digs her fingers in the back of her neck to stare up at the ceiling. "He's naive. I let it happen which is the same as doing it myself, this is  _ my _ fault. Ignoring it won't change anything, running away doesn't fix what I broke, Jester, it's time to grow up and own my mistakes, I can't keep acting like a  _ child, I can't-" _

In one swift move, Jester grabs Beau's face and drags it around to look at her. Strong and gentle, she doesn't let Beau pull away, she watches those blue eyes blink back tears, and Beau bites her lip until she draws blood. So stubborn, her human is. "Beau," she says softly, and Beau's eyelashes flutter. The tension in her body seeps out until she slumps against Jester, let's the tiefling cradle her face. "Those aren't your words and I don't like them at all, let them go and drift away. We lost our- we lost our friends and it's okay to be sad and it's okay to be mad, but don't be mad at ourselves. Lorenzo took Molly and Oban took Yasha. We lost Molly but… but we're going to get Yasha back, okay?"

Beau nods silently and a moment later her arms wrap around Jester and pull her close. "I'm sorry."

"Me too. We'll figure this out." 

**.**

**.**

**.**

When  _ Jester _ cries - when she breaks down in the room in front of them all, when she watches  _ Yasha bring Oban back _ , and when her heart feels like someone is ripping it apart…

Beau is there. A soothing comfort and she holds Jester tight, let's her bury her face in her neck and fall apart. 

And Beau helps pick her back up again. Reassures her that it will be okay. They'll figure it out.

It's okay to be sad.

**.**

**.**

**.**

The house is big and empty.

It's super clean, like,  _ super _ clean and homey, the candles glow softly and Yeza's meek smile is very sweet, it almost  _ feels _ like home.

But Yasha's room is so very cold and empty, and she hasn't even gone in yet. She can picture the door and her heart climbs up her throat. They're here and Yasha isn't. It doesn't feel right.

Caduceus offers tea and nothing has sounded better. They follow him up, Beau breaking off to quickly wash up and change - she finds them with her hair down in soft, wet curls, and just a tunic with her pants. Jester's smile is soft and small and she makes sure to save this memory, the first time in all their travels where Beau doesn't look like the badass monk.

Just warm, tired Beau.

Jester makes sure they sit together under the tree. Her own armour digs painfully into her ribs, and she only thinks to take it off when she notices Fjord is tossing his aside. It feels kind of like a sleepover, with everyone so casually dressed…

But the broken, bloody, carved pile of armour is a sharp and insistent reminder of where they've been. What they are, what they came from, and what they lost in the process. 

Yeza pours tea while Caduceus watches him pointedly, and Nott starts braiding little flower in Beau's hair without her noticing. Or if she does, she says nothing. There's a weird energy between those three, the empire dwellers, that Jester hasn't been able to put her finger on.

Any time Caleb starts getting too far away in his head, either Beau or Nott swoop in - tugging on his coat or throwing Frumpkin at him. When Beau snaps too hard, when her scowl doesn't soften as she looks at people, when she seems like  _ you know, actually, she might really just punch me right here and now _ , Nott touches the back of her hand, or Caleb murmurs her name, and the stress of her shoulders fades. And Nott, so very quiet, flinching at every sound, is never alone. Caleb carries her on his back or holds her hand or asks her questions, and Beau-

Jester has never seen Beau so patient and engaged with anyone (other than herself and thank  _ gods _ there's no jealousy), but Beau crouches down to talk quietly with Nott. She hands her little things she's found, helps tie back her hair before they leave Bazzoxan so it doesn't get in her face when they talk to the queen. 

It makes Jester's heart ache. Her mind wanders and she does so wonder…

Is this what it was like when they lost Molly?

Was the room so quiet and empty with just the three of them, mourning their friend, desperately trying to save the rest, not knowing if they were about to lose more? 

Did they ever talk about it? None of them seem the type and Jester realizes that the only one of their group actually  _ willing _ to address it, is Caduceus. Everyone else would rather pretend they're fine, ignore it until it gets better.

As a healer, Jester knows that wounds won't get better unless you help them.

"So that's pretty crazy that we're not in jail, right?" she asks suddenly. 

Caduceus looks up from where he's holding a soggy wad of leaves and moss on Fjord's bruised and beaten face. "Oh, yeah. That's always nice. We did a good thing, it would have been weird if we  _ were _ in trouble."

"How was releasing a Calamity Horror on the world, almost dying a bunch of different times, and losing Yasha a good thing?" Fjord asks beneath the moss. "And I use the term  _ lose _ lightly." 

Someone really needs to talk to him about that.

But Caduceus shrugs and sits back in his spot. "Keep that there for about half an hour, it will help with the bruising. Telling the truth is always good."

"Debatable," Beau mutters. Her head twitches when Nott pulls too hard on one of the little braids and she hisses, giving her a look. "I'll punt you off this roof."

"You could try," Nott challenges back. "We didn't run and I think that's the good part?"

"Part of the good part. We're all alive and I think that's the best part of the good part," Caduceus muses thoughtfully. "Would have been such a waste."

Again, Beau scoffs and Jester can feel the tension rolling off of her in waves. Her eyes are angry - Nott and Caleb exchange looks, and he leans forward. "Beauregard."

"A waste?" she echoes between clenched teeth. 

Frumpkin poofs into her lap but she doesn't so much as look at him. Seemingly realizing he took the wrong path, Caduceus backtracks. "That might be the wrong phrasing-"

"No, you're absolutely right. Molly dying was such a waste, you know? Those were my thoughts when Lorenzo killed him, when we had to carry his body off the road and bury him. Yeah, I was thinking  _ boy, we should pack up quick before we lose the trail, have fun getting cold in the ground, Molly! Shame about your potential. Bye. _

"And Yasha? Well, hell, she's still alive. Think of  _ that _ waste. Walking around all big and strong, cutting down anyone in her path. All those lives unlived because of her, because of  _ us.  _ Such a waste."

He scratches the back of his neck, his smile more grimace than anything. "Miss Beau-"

"No." She's up faster than anyone was prepared, across the space before they can even flinch. When Jester blinks, up on her knees, she sees Beau with her face buried in Caduceus' chest, arms hugging him tightly. "It would be more than just a waste if we lost you, Caduceus."

He blinks a few times and Jester is shocked to see the wet tracks down through his furry cheeks, her heart warms when he holds Beau to him. "It's okay."

"It fucking sucks."

A chuckle rumbles from his chest and the rest of the group eases back into their spots. "And that's okay," he tells her, tells them. 

For the first time since they left the house, Jester feels like maybe he's right. It's okay.

**.**

**.**

**.**

It's not okay. Dairon is totally gonna kick their asses and Beau won't stop pacing the room. She's frazzled and quiet and hasn't looked at Jester in ten minutes, and it's starting to make the tiefling dizzy.

She doesn't like it.

"Beau," Jester drawls from her bed on her side of the room. She's committed to sleeping on the balcony tonight - it's kind of romantic, when she thinks about it, or would be if she were waiting for someone besides Dairon… like Beau. But she also  _ really _ misses her bed. Her nice, big, soft bed. "Do you have a crush on me?"

The monk doesn't even pause her pacing. "Yeah, duh. I told you the other night, I-" she cuts off abruptly, eyes wide, and spins to look at Jester. "I  _ did _ tell you… right? That wasn't a dream?"

Jester waits long enough for the panic to settle in before she beams. "You did!"

"Oh, fuck, okay. Don't play like that, man, I've been having some crazyass dreams lately."

"About me?" she wonders with a lilt in her voice.

The darkening of Beau's cheeks is a delightful answer but not specific enough. "You could be… around, in them, yeah. I might've seen you in passing once or twice."

"What were we doing?"

"Fishing."

"Fishing?"

"Yup."

"Beau, that's not sexy at all," Jester pouts, her shoulders drooping. "You're supposed to say dancing, or kissing, or fucking, or stargazing."

The monk's head tilts, amused and oh so confused, she looks like a puppy. Jester tries not to coo at her. "How did you land on stargazing and not fucking?"

"Stargazing is  _ much _ more sexy than fucking," Jester tells her firmly.

"Romantic, maybe, but sexy? How is anything more sexy than  _ actual _ sex?"

_ "Beauregard," _ Jester purrs and her tail sways behind her. Beau absolutely loosens up, her stiff back turns to jelly as she both perks up and melts at the same time. Jester sighs, her chest heaves, and she holds back her giggle when she notices the struggle of blue eyes trying to stay on her face. "I suppose I'll just have to show you, sometime." 

"H-"

Beau nods instead. 

"Are you still worried about Dairon?"

The shadows return in her eyes - just a little bit this time, and Beau drags her feet over to the bed. She drops down, leaning against the tiefling, and sighs softly. "'Course I'm worried. I don't know if they're gonna kick my ass, drag me out of here, get caught, get  _ us _ caught, or… or expect me to do something I don't wanna do."

"What don't you want to do?"

Beau looks at her, a sad smile. "Jeopardize this group. I'm not… I'm scared that I can't have both, that I can't be both. I belong to the Cobalt Soul, I have responsibilities there, but I  _ am  _ the Mighty Nein. I have people here, I want to be here."

"Do you want to be there too?" Jester asks hesitantly. 

"I think running away was instinct. A reaction more than a decision. After a while, at least. I don't know, Jes." 

"Beau?" She waits until the human looks at her again and boops their shoulders together. "I want you to be happy."

"Think I am."

A moment passes… "Okay, that was super sweet but also super sad, like, you're not familiar enough with being happy to tell if you  _ are _ happy or not? Beau, are you tragic??"

"Oh, you look so fucking heartbroken over that!" she laughs and shakes her head. "Who asks that? You're adorable. Yeah, man, I think we're all fucking tragic here. That's what makes this group so important. I saw Caleb laugh until he dropped to his knee the other day. How many times do you think he even chuckled before he met us? And Fjord is-" Beau stops, turns more fully to Jester and lightly slaps her arm. "Okay, Fjord is  _ fucked _ right now."

"We really need to talk to him-"

"We  _ really _ need to talk to him, like-"

"He's mad at Yasha!  _ Mad! _ Like she chose any of that, like fucking Oban didn't do something to her."

"It's not good. Should we find him in the morning?" Beau asks uncertainly. "Should it just be one of us? You, right? You guys are close."

Jester presses their knees together, playing with Beau's hand between them. "We'll figure it out. I think everybody just needs to sleep in their own beds for, like, a solid night. It will seem better in the morning, you know? Then we'll talk to him.  _ After _ this whole Dairon thing, because I'm very sweet for giving up my nice big bed to help you."

"Jes, you haven't slept in your bed since the day you got it and we both know it. You're gonna miss  _ my _ decently-sized-but-not-that-big bed." 

Jester blows a raspberry and rolls her eyes. "You're missing the point, Beau."

"Which is?" she chuckles. 

Jester preens. "I'm  _ very _ sweet and I deserve thanks."

"Thanks, ya asshole."

"Better thanks."

"For real, Jes, thank you," Beau amends with a gentle smile. Her eyes - blue as the ocean- glance down, where Jester traces the scar in her palm, and flick back up to meet amethyst. Jester's heart stutters, internal alarms blaring, and she licks her lips. Beau's smile twitches up in the corner, leaning forward until one of her big curls falls down over her shoulder and Jester reaches out to tuck it back behind Beau's ear. Their noses brush against each other-

"Hey guys, I, uh, I got that hammock that I mentioned earlier. I really think-"

_ "Caduceus, we're trying to kiss!"  _ Jester screeches breathlessly towards the closed door. "Beau-"

A warm hand cups Jester's cheek, Beau's thumb tracing the freckles there, before she's pulled into their kiss.


End file.
